A Bigger Bang
by Writer Writer On The Wall
Summary: A bigger Big Bang happening in Earth-Three Home of Owlman and Jokester Dakota. What happens when at least three time the amount of Bang Babies are turned out than on Earth-One? R&R please!
1. An Intervention

"Wake up! This is an intervention!" Teresa Rodriquez grabbed her friend's blanket and pulled. The dark-haired boy spun on the mattress once before falling out of bed with a thud. A lot of things run trough your head when you fall out of bed in the middle of the night, and a lot more when one of your best friends made you fall. But the only thing running through Scott Kyun's mind when he fell out of bed on that fateful night was

'I hope they're gonna be okay.'

The 'they' Scott was referring to was two of their friends, Adam Evans and Otto Strong. They'd both always been trouble, but after joining a gang, and dropping out of school, Otto from Dakota Union High, and Evan from college. Before they reached their destination, Scott hung back to make a call. They might need back up.

Now, Scott, Ivan, Teresa, and two others, Penelope and Frankie were all headed to the docks, where they new the gangs were meeting for a brawl. Their only hope was to try to stop Otto and Adam without getting hurt themselves.

"There they are!" Teresa exclaimed, spotting Adam and Otto entering the docking yard. Hearing her, Adam turned to see his younger brother and [former] brother rushing toward them.

"Hey, Otto, looks like they've come to their senses." The musician said sarcastically. The larger boy chuckled, turning to face the group.

"What are you guys doing?! Wade and his buddies are bad news! You could get hurt!" Scott huffed, out of breath.

"What the scatterbrain said." Penelope jerked a thumb toward him.

"Well you guys are _gonna_ get hurt if you don't get outta hear." Adam yelled angrily, turning to walk into the shipyard to join in the fight.

"Yeah, and they're not gonna be the ones to do it." Otto glared. "What about the band!" Was the only thing Ivan could think of as the two of them walked away.

"For get the band! You're all dead weight anyway! The five of them only starred for a moment as he turned to follow Adam. They had once bee a group of seven, best friends. But now, they had to save their friends from themselves.

"Come you guys, we gotta pull them outta there." Ivan said, leading the group into the shipyard.

"Uh-ah man, I gotta bad feeling." Frankie shook his head, hanging back.

"Come on, they could get killed!" Penelope grabbed his arm and yanked him down the path. Her black hair was pulled into two pigtails on top of her head, she glared at him each time he tried to tug away, and by third time he had given up. Not many people could escape the power of her glare.

The five of them found themselves in the middle of a gain riot, chains rattling beatings taking place, guns shots being heard in the distance. In the panic and confusion, they lost each other, Penelope and Frankie ducking behind the crates and canisters being stored at the docks, Ivan desperately trying to find his older brother, and Teresa fighting off a few gang members, her small background in gymnastics the only thing to defend herself from their chains and planks. Scott seemed almost to be enjoying himself as he dodged one punch or kick after the other, all while looking for Otto and the others. He laughed at the teens as they tried to catch him, but Scott prided himself on his speed. If only this had been more planned, he would've brought something to defend himself with. He was skilled in many weapons, all much more sophisticated than anything most people in Dakota knew about, swords, Sais, even shirkian and throwing stars. That coupled with his speed made Scott a formidable opponent.

"Come on, I think I see Teresa." Frankie said, this time grabbing Penelope's arm, the both of them darting across the yard to wear their friend tried to out run three boys, all of whom Frankie regrettably recognized from his own sketchy past.

That's when it happened. That's when it all that rubble and junk the five of them were pushing up that hill, Frankie's past, Scott's family trouble, Ivan's lack _of _a family, Teresa's problem's at school, and Penelope's money problems, all doubled. That's when the canisters exploded, that's when the purple gas hissed out of them, creating a cloud of purple to dense for anyone to see through. The cops went in with gas masks, but the teens and adults that had caused them to come to the shipyard weren't so lucky.

Frankie's eyes were burning, his throat tightened, he could breath. Somehow, he managed to fin Penelope, who had passed out from the purple fumes and run toward the fence.

"Teresa!" He wheezed, carrying his friend in his arms.

"I'm here; just get… get to the fence." She sounded worst than him, but he couldn't worry about that now, Penelope was unconscious, and he wasn't far from it either, he had to make to the fence. To fresh, breathable air.

He did eventually, climbing up with Pen on his shoulders, trying to stay awake. On the other side was Scott, couching and wheezing, leaning against a fence post for support. Frankie touched down on the other side and set Penelope down, dropping to his knees from the fumes.

"Where's *cough* where's…" Scott couldn't speak without coughing.

"I.. I donno…" Frankie wheezed and coughed, pounding on his chest.

"We gotta get outta here." He managed to get out. Scott only nodded, turning back to where the police were sedating and arresting others. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Frankie, trying to shake him awake, yelling something he couldn't understand.

Teresa couched, leaning against a crate to support herself. She turned when she heard a groan beside her.

"Ivan!" The said hoarsely, trying to pick him up.

"Come on, we gotta get out of here." She pulled on him, but he wouldn't move, he'd passed out, and she was on the brink. Her vision was blurred, but she managed to make out a girl running toward them. She was wearing some kind of gas mask. Her face was the last thing Teresa remembered before passing out.


	2. Too Many Questions

Penelope popped awake, startled. She looked around, gulping in air, sweat pouring down her neck. The white, bright room seemed to spin as she did. The African-American shook her head, trying to clear it, rubbing her head.

When the room finally stopped spinning, she took in her surroundings, deducing she was in some kind of hospital, tough not Dakota Memorial.

She caught herself in the mirror that hung above a sink opposite her bed and gasped. Her once black hair was now purple in color. She gazed into her own reflection, amazed. What happened last night? She thought to herself, remembering that she and Frankie had been trying to find Teresa when she passed out from fumes she assumed had been tear gas from the police. What happened to her hair? Where were the others? Were they safe? Otto and Evan?

Too many questions.

Frankie was shaking.

Why was he shivering when he had such a high temperature?

He just kept going over the girl's word in his head. She explained that she was a friend of Scott's, that he'd called her before they arrived at the docks. She'd been able to save Ivan and Teresa, and that she would bring them to Hampton House, an establishment in Dakota Hills for kids with special powers. But she hadn't seen anything like the purple gas they'd experienced the night before. She'd come prepared, donning a gas mask, and offering one to her, but he'd refused. He figured it was too late for him anyway.

He sat outside the med bay at Hampton, waiting for word on his friends. The teen had declined when offered medical help, he hated hospitals. When he was nine, he contracted a rare virus and was forced to spend two years of his life in a hospital. He hadn't gotten to see his little sister until she was two. And she didn't even know who he was.

Frankie _hated_ hospitals.

Storma agreed to let him stay I the waiting room instead. She entered the room now, from the chamber he knew she'd put Scott in. She had a look of emotionless stone on her face. The same she'd had on since he'd met the girl. Frankie decided that's how she always was.

"Well? Is he hurt? What about the others? Are they okay? What was that purple stuff? Are we gonna be okay?"

All while he was talking, he just got warmer and warmer according to the thermometer, but he couldn't stop shaking. Stoma's eyes grew wide as she watched the boy burst into flames, the blanket he'd wrapped around his form because he _felt _cold burning up.

Frankie looked at his own hands, channeling the flames to his palms without even thinking about it.

"Are you alright?" Storma asked, her monotone voice unchanged in the surprising instance.

Too many questions.


	3. Not Enough Answers

Scott groaned awake, rubbing his head. The ceiling spun, something black and grey shattering its bright whiteness.

When he could focus again, he found his friend starring down at him; he could read beyond her emotionless exterior to see that she was concerned about him.

"Nice hair, skits." She joked, her monotone leaving much to b desired.

"Huh?" He sat up shakily, rubbing his throbbing head; he looked across from him and was astonished to find his hair had turned the same color as that strange gas that had spilled during the fight.

"You okay?" Storma asked, redirecting his face towards her, prying open one of his eyes in order to shine a light in into it.

"I'd be a lot better without that light in my eye." He said trying, and failing, to jerk out of her grip.

"You don't seem to have a concussion." She said, letting go of him and turning around o get something off a medical card she'd have to wheel around to the other rooms.

"Whoa." She heard him say behind her.

"What?" The Goth turned around to see her friend holding a glowing purple throwing star, one of his favorite weapons. His usually tame smile grew into a wide, almost scary Cheshire grin as he began to laugh. The maniacal sound would've scared anyone who didn't know how screw-loose Scott had been already. But something changed in him the night before.

How?

Why?

Was he gonna be okay?

Was this his eccentricity going overboard or him going insane?

Not enough answers.

"Can you hear me?" The girl had a worried look on her face from what Ivan could make out. His vision blurred, the room spun, there was a pounding in his head. He remembered passing out in the gang riot.

"Who…" He squeezed his eyes shut, his head hurt too much to talk.

"You shouldn't try and move." A monotone voice belonging to this Goth came to his ears and he settled back down. Opening his eyes again, he found himself in a hospital room.

"The others are alright." She answered a question he hadn't asked yet. The irl shined a light into his eye.

"You hit your head pretty bad. I'm Storma by the way. Yes, that's my real name." She just kept doing that, answering questions he hadn't had the chance to ask yet.

"You can see them in a minute… I wasn't able to find your brother before we had to leave… I'm sorry, but he's probably alright." Her face showed no emotion, her voice showed no emotion. Her eyes showed no emotion. Who was this unbelievably unfeeling girl?

Once the pain in his head had toned down some, aided by a rather large ice pack, Ivan was able to look into the mirror across from him.

"Don't freak out." Storma said quickly when she saw his eyes widen at the image in the mirror. Was that really his face?! This… this… nothing? Blackness with two purple eyes looking back at him. His hair the only thing standing out on his head besides those two purple dots. He looked now at his now blackened hands and heard her say again,

"Don't freak out."

"What happened to…"

"I don't know… yet."

"Are there..."

"Possibly."

He looked at his hands again and pumped his fist. He would never be able to go back to school like this… school! Oh, man… and home… what would his foster parents think? He screamed.

"I told you not to freak out." Storma sighed.

What was happening to him?

What _had _happened to him?

Not enough answers.

"Well? Is he hurt? What about the others? Are they okay? What was that purple stuff? Are we gonna be okay?"

All while he was talking, he just got warmer and warmer according to the thermometer, but he couldn't stop shaking. Stoma's eyes grew wide as she watched the boy burst into flames, the blanket he'd wrapped around his form because he _felt _cold burning up.

Frankie looked at his own hands, channeling the flames to his palms without even thinking about it.

"Are you alright?" Storma asked, her monotone voice unchanged in the surprising instance.

Too many questions.


	4. Chapter 4

Teresa woke up with her vision blurred, and the room spinning. But it soon subsided and she sat up. Immediately, she noticed that something was wrong. Something was covering her skin… something warm and soft… She looked down at her hands and gapped at the fathers covering skin, where her fingernails had once been, there were now sharp talons. She looked in a mirror across from her and saw her face. She gapped at the feathers covering her body, the wings that had sprouted from her underarms. Slowly, Teresa stepped down from the bed, feeling steady enough to walk. She walked up the mirror and touched its glassy surface.

What had happened to her?

She shook her head, blinking. She looked down at her hands and then at her feet, her legs, turning them, and turning her head to look at her backside. She glanced at the mirror again, her hands on her hips, Looking at herself in profile, and then head-on again.

"A bird?" She shuttered, thinking of the criminals in Gotham City modeling themselves after birds. She heard footsteps outside of the door and turned.

Wait. Footsteps outside the door? The walls and door looked thick enough for the sound of the footsteps getting closer and closer to the door, and finally, it clicked open. The girl who stepped in at that moment didn't look surprised at finding a giant bird-girl in her hospital room. She didn't show any emotion at all.

"How are you feeling." The Goth asked, wheeling in small medical cart.

Teresa nodded. "Considering." Her Hispanic accent was evident as she spoke, looking down at her hands.

"You seem to be taking it well." Storma said curiously, motioning for her to take a seat on the bed. The girl did and waited until Storma was done shining a light into her eye to reply.

"I donno." She shrugged. "I never really liked being normal."

If she could, Storma would've smiled at that comment. She didn't like the concept of normal either, though she had never experienced it herself.

"Storma." She introduced herself, packing up her supplies, giving the girl the okay to go out and sit with Frankie, explaining about what had just happened with him. The bird-girl seemed to take that well too. When Teresa was in the waiting room, talking with Frankie, she moved on to Ivan's room.


	5. Frankie

"_Victim's are still arriving here at Dakota Memorial Hospital following the gas explosion that's come to be known as—The Big Bang—, producing hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of mutant children and teens just like these…." _

I watched the news, more starring at the wall behind the TV than the screen itself, listening to the report on what had happened to me and my friends… and hundreds of others... the night before. I was in a waiting room just outside of a small infirmary at The Hampton House, a home for kids with special powers, genetic mistakes, science experiments, the decadents of aliens. But no one like those pictured on the screen I glanced at every now and again. The Big Bang… mutant? Nah. Metahuman, I like the sound 'a that.

The Big Bang, what gave me my powers Storma, a resident at Hampton, described as "pyrokinetic". I create and control flames with just a thought… it was scary at first. Especially since I'd burst _into_ flames at first. I hadn't understood why my temperature as rising as I got colder in the moments before. Still don't, and neither does Storma. She's a friends of Scott's, a friend I'd never heard of, but then again, I hadn't exactly been around that much lately. My little sister Mia is turning seven next week and I've been preparing for the best party yet… that reminds me, I have to call my mom and tell her I'm all right. She must've called the morgue twice already.

Teresa was just getting back from using the payphone herself. I didn't bother to ask how she'd planned to explain to her parents and brother about her… new… appearance. I kinda liked it, and she did too, apparently. Teresa had always wanted to stand out from the crowd, and now she finally could. I just hoped we could find a solution to the way she looked, a way for her to hide. Not that there was anything wrong with how she looked, its just that… that was my opinion. From the distance, we heard Ivan screaming, and Teresa ran to the door it had come from, though how she'd pinpointed it, I had no idea.

I continued to the payphone, digging a few quarters from my pocket.

"Hello?" She sounded worried. Really worried. "Mom." I waited for her to calm down. "Good Lord, Francis, where have you been?!" Beyond that, she became hysterical; I couldn't understand a word she said. When she finally calmed herself down, I spoke again.

"I'm alright mom… I spent the night at Scott's, fell asleep studying. Sorry." He lied through my teeth. What was I supposed to tell her? I went straight from planning at Teresa's to Scott's and then to the docs to save two of our friends who would rather have handed us a beating themselves?

"Oh. Alright, you come home soon, you hear?" She still sounded worried.

"I'm okay, ma, really. I'll be home as soon as I can."

I walked down to the nearest bus stop an hour later and rode to the Ferris Row Projects, where my mom was waiting with a hug and a bowl of oatmeal. It was the only thing she could cook without burning really; I did most of the cooking around the house. Though my skills basically stopped at frozen pizza.

I spent the rest of that day face down on my bed up in my room. I new I would have to talk to the other about what happened eventually, and I knew I would have to go to school the next day, but for the moment, I just wanted to regain the two days worth of sleep I'd lost.

I donno what time it was when I finally heard the phone ringing, but I could tell I'd been asleep for hours, the way my body needed to be woken up as I stretched for the phone on my bedside table.

"Hello?" I yawned.

"Frankie, where are you? We really need to talk about… this." It was Teresa, she sounded frustrated, though, if I were her, I'd be frustrated too.

"Okay." I agreed, nodding even though I knew she couldn't see me. "When?"

"Now, at the station, me and Ivan got somethin to show the rest 'a you." She explained, I was curious about what she had to show, us, but decided to let it be for now.

I hung up the phone and changed my shirt; the old one had started to get a little ripe. My red short sleeve was the cleanest one I could find.

"I'm gonna meet the gang for a bite to eat." I lied as I walked down the stairs, picking up a few of Mia's toys as I did. "Okay." My mom said from her place in the living room. We both could clearly see Mia in the backyard through the window. I smiled at er, and she responded with one of her own before saying,

"You be back here before ten, Francis." She pointed to the ground, a stern look on her face. It had been hours since I was last awake, I missed dinner. I guess she didn't want to wake me up. After all, I'd been up late the night before "studying". A curfew. I'd never had a set curfew before, at least not by her. I made it a point to be home by at least eleven every evening. I didn't argue, I just nodded and headed out the door. I'd already lied to her twice in the same day; I didn't want to start something by talking back. That was least I could do for her.

I felt like I was responsible for my family, my dad died when I was in the hospital, and now mom and I both worked to support ourselves and Mia. Teresa's parents usually took care of Mia while both of us had to work, but it was mom's night off, so she would take care of her.

I reached the abandoned gas station the seven… five of us hung out at in about ten minutes of bus time.


	6. Ivan

"I told you not to freak out." Her monotone was so mocking at that moment. Don't freak out she says. Why shouldn't I freak out? My face was gone, my eyes were purple… the only remnants of my clothing were the vest my older brother had given me, which had gone from brown to purple some home, and my pant bagging around my ankles. My hair had also turned purple. The color of that gas. My head was pounding, I was dizzy, and I couldn't see straight.

I did manage to make out the image of Teresa bursting through the door. "Ivan!" She yelled, a look of absolute horror on her face. She had also changed. Was that how it was for the other too? And everyone at the riot at the docks? My brother, Otto, Scott, Frankie, Penelope? I screamed again, holding my head in pure agony, I felt both of their hands on my arms trying to push me back onto the bed.

"Calm down!" There was her voice again, that mocking monotone. Calm down?! How did she expect me to calm down! Didn't she what that gad had done to me? Had done to Teresa? And what about the other?!

I trashed, trying to free myself from their grip. "His head trauma's gonna get worse if we don't do something." Stoma's voice came again, then Teresa's accent.

"Ivan, please! You've got to calm down!"

I don't know what it was, but her voice seemed to sooth me a little, I stopped trashing at least.

"Ivan, you've got to let Storma check to see if you've got a concussion." She explained, I nodded, my eyes squeezed tight in pain.

I don't really remember what happened next to tell you the truth, but I do know that Teresa explained that Storma was a skilled medical officer, even at her young age, and that she said I didn't have a concussion, just a bump.

They gave me some ice and called in the others, minus Frankie. I wasn't surprised, he could never be too far from his family for too long, and this had been an over night experience, sunlight was pouring in through a small window on the far wall. We must've been a high-level floor or something; I could only see sky through it. Teresa and I were the only ones whose physical features had been altered too much by the gas, save Pen and Scott's hair, which I thought was actually pretty funny. Though, we all had something purple on now, Scott and Pen's hair, my vest, and the tank top Teresa wore, which had once been red. The color of the gas, it branded us.

"So, any abilities show up for you three yet?" Storma asked, I held back a glare at the unimpressed ton in her voice, what was with her anyway?! I assumed she meant the other three, as she'd been with me for the entire time I was awake.

Penelope shook her head, and then turned her attention to me. "You know, vest-boy, that's actually an improvement on your old look." She laughed

I glared at her. "Not funny, Pen."

"No, I think she's right." Scott held up both his thumbs and pointer fingers, making a director's box with his hands and squinting one eye shut, grinning his almost scary grin. We always joked about how Scott kind of teetered on the brink of insanity.

"Ya kinda look like Dead Star." He cackled. Did I say teetered? That gas must've done something to what was left of his brain. And judging by the grimaces on their faces, the others agreed with me. Accept for the Gothic "medical officer". Did she feel anything at all?

Dead Star was a comic book super villain we all loved to hate. He was comparing me to that nut-job… then again; Scott was a nut job too.

When I was feeling well enough to walk, the painkillers they gave me doing their job, Storma sat us all down in the waiting room outside of the infirmary and handed the girls choker color necklaces, and the guys watches.

"They're holograms," she explained. "Realistic enough to give the appearance of your old selves."

Teresa hooked on the necklace, and we watched as her feathers contracted into her skin until she was left with her natural tanned skin tone and the gold brown hair, the color her feathers had taken on. I was next, my normal clothing returning when I did.

Good, now at least my foster parents wouldn't call the cops when I came home. My mother died when I was too little to remember, dad a short time after that. My brother and I had lived on the street for a while, until I met Teresa one day after wandering away from him to look for food. We were only about eight for nine then. She invited Evan and I to her house for lunch, and her parents decided to keep us foster kids. Eventually though, they couldn't afford the extra food, so we were shipped off to another home in Dakota. The Radcliffs. They were nice enough people, Evan didn't like them much. But only because, unlike the Rodriquez family, they noticed when he skipped school to hang out with his gang.

Eventually, we had to leave the Radcliffs and were placed separately. I got mixed up in that for while, and had to leave my foster home. I decided I wasn't going to force another couple into handing me off again and left the gang. That ended me up in the hospital… at Evan's hand.

We decided to regroup at the Station later, an old gas station the se… five of us hang out at. Right now, we all needed to go home and explain to our parents where we had been.


End file.
